The Blood Mage
by HighTyrant
Summary: What lies within the memories of Karen Rosso? An original story.
1. The Industrial World

It was like something out of the future. High rise buildings stood tall and loomed over everything as far as the eye could see. Their glass and metal structure made them look like giant, monolithic mirrors. They were so sleek and smooth and they reflected the world around them, the image of a higher force at work - God, or perhaps, nature. They also reflected the accomplishment of man, who was supposedly created in God's image by God. They radiated power and immanence. Roads shot out of the cities and man spread outwards like a spider weaving an armoured web. It seemed like a place and time of success. When night would fall upon the city it would glow in an assortment of colours. Neon lights and the glow of houses radiated in an intense manner, yet another reflection of the power of man. Street lamps were spread out in abundance. This was a time rising towards success, though, not entirely successful. Companies still struggled against one in another in a regulated fashion and separate interests were ingrained into the fabric of society. With liberalism, society told people to act on a sense of individualism. This undermined the inherent nature of individualism. This also demeaned collectivity and tore society apart.  
She was a tyrant of this time. That is not to say she achieved power through illegitimate means, but she reaped the benefits from a system that promoted greed. She was in her middle ages. She had a face that suited her age, it was somewhat wrinkled. The front of her eyebrows were pointed downward and despite the fact she had the sweet nurturing look of a middle aged woman, it looked like she bore a hidden snarl on her face, waiting to emerge at any second. Her hair was blonde and was cut at a moderate length. It was closer to looking short as the sides and back of her hair just barely went past her shoulders. It was kept in a bun.  
Her body was aged and lacked the luscious appeal of a younger, more firm body. She had moderately sized breasts and was of a moderate weight. A seemingly, perfectly fine woman for her age. Her name was Karen Rosso and she was the president of "The Rosso Company", an investment firm.  
She sat in the back seat of her limo, cold glaring outside. Her driver today was somebody new. She had had a multiplicity of limo drivers over the past, some who were temporarily consistent, with others it was a one time instance. The limo pulled up at a crosslight, she gazed out the window. There were kids playing in a park outside and some babysitters and parents conversing while watching over them.  
'Kids' she thought, 'why would I want a bunch of whiny brats to drag me down and spoil themselves on my wealth? I'd rather die rich then have my kids rob me and ruin my reputation.' She smiled. "Driver?" she asked.  
"Yes?" he looked at her in the passenger mirror, she was glaring at him while grinning.  
He was a shorter man, of caucasian descent, he was balding and had a moustache. He had a warm genuine smile on his face  
"Do you have any children?"  
"Why, yes I do 'mam"  
The car started to drive again  
"Why?"  
He paused, confused already. "Well what do ya mean?"  
He started to get nervous and perspire.  
"Why have kids in a world like this and with a life like yours? The world is too uncertain as is."  
"Aw. 'Mam, that's not how I see it. I had children out of love. I found someone special who I wanted to bring a child into this world with."  
Karen watched as the high-rise buildings passed by the limo. A few clouds drifted across the clear blue sky. She laughed. Her laughing became cackling. "Love?!" She exclaimed. "Everyone today is selfish and rightfully so, capitalism promotes individuals succeeding for themselves. There is no collectivity, no real support system. The rich succeed, do what they can to ensure their success and they tell other people they're off on their own. Only the wealthy and powerful succeed and you're not one of them. How can you expect to properly raise a child? What makes you think you can get by with just love?"  
Karen's limo driver looked shocked. He hadn't heard talk of that nature come out of the mouth of a women. She grinned, a sinister grin, but behind it all there was a feeling of emptiness.  
The limo pulled up in front of a huge high rise building with a majestic looking lobby and entrance. Two beams help a plank which came out of the front of the building. The buildings number was in big gold numbers on the front of the plank facing the street. The Doors were big and grand too. The driver opened the side door for Karen and she walked out. She turned to the driver and smiling she said "You're fired".  
The doorman opened the door for her and she entered the building.  
She was in a meeting with her board of directors. The room was elegant, decorated in a romanticized Italian sort of style. There were paintings around her of people who were of importance to the company over the past thirty years. The table was long. It encompassed a large portion of the rooms centre. They were all in big, comfortable leather chairs which they sunk into.  
There were five men in the room with her. One of them was a pudgy man. He had big bushy eyebrows, wore glasses and his hairline was receding. As opposed to going for the combover, he cut his hair short so as to make the bald spot less distinguished. He thought this made him look confident about his hair loss. His name was Martin Clarence. He was sitting across from Karen. To Karen's right sat Lenny Raymond, a skinny man in his late sixties; and Derrick Newman, he was semi overweight, had a head full of gelled back black hair and a droopy face. Karen found Newman repulsive. To Karen's left sat Eric Smith, a blonde haired boy in his late twenties, beside him sat John Mcdonald. Mcdonald was a pale, frail work-a -holic who drank an excessive amount of coffee. His wife and kid's walked out on him, but he remained placid and focused on his job. Eric Smith had a special relationship with Karen. She had used him for sex and this accounted for his rise to success. He was a rich, young aspiring intern and slowly Karen manipulated his ideology and used money to indirectly force Smith to be her slave for sex. He was dispensable. Karen often did this to young males to satisfy any sexual needs she had. Smith, unlike others, had yet to be fired as he was approaching his thirties. Karen didn't really care though, she had lost interest in him all together. She looked at him across the table as Lenny Raymond went over some finances. 'Why do I bother even fucking males like this? What satisfaction does it really bring? It's nothing but a lack of control and inauthentic affection.' She didn't care about firing Smith, but she didn't care about intercourse with him any more either. She had become sexually apathetic. Her bitterness was only furthered. The loss of yet another source of pleasure was the source of her cynicism.  
The meeting was a financial review. When it ended, Karen walked out and headed to the limo which was waiting outside. 'What a bunch of boring old fucks' she thought to herself. 'It would be really funny if Mcdonald lost his job, he'd loose all he had.' Karen was reaching a similar conclusion to ones she had before 'I don't care, I hardly value any of this, I know I'm powerful, I've proven my power, I could die at any time and I wouldn't care.' She then paused. She felt a slight sense of shock. She had a revelation. 'What does my power mean if it doesn't amount to pleasure?' She thought about the sense of satisfaction the last limo driver said when he spoke of love. Despite her smile at that point, she felt a sense of emptiness in her subconscious. She felt too sickened by this notion to want to psychologically torture her next driver. She sat in silence, glaring out the window or at the driver every so often and then looking down.  
"Everything alright 'mam?" the driver asked.  
"Go fuck yourself!" she snarled back at him. "Lower class scum!"  
When she said these words the feeling of emptiness inside her grew but also something else. She felt a sense of fear overwhelm her, she felt a sense of depression empty her soul, she felt sickened and anxious. The driver looked more even more concerned.  
She had finally arrived at her mansion and when she did she was in the same disoriented state. The mansion was in extremely upper class neighbourhood. There was quite a lot of land surrounding the house. The land too, was hers. It was one of the biggest houses in the area and it was a grand colour of white. The driver opened the door and offered to help her into her house but she refused him in a distant tone. She felt too sick for aggressive verbal behaviour, she just wanted to get inside and do what she could to make herself feel better.  
She was throwing up in her bathroom. Like the mansion, the bathroom was quite grand and elegant too. It looked like a modern bathroom done in a style that almost paralleled greek architecture. She puked out her lunch in the form of yellow and orange chunks into the pristine toilet bowl. She felt tears overcome her, as if she was going to cry, and while holding sobs in, tears streamed down her face. 'What's happening to me!?' she thought to herself. She broke out into sobs. "What…the..fuck?" she said while choking on her tears.  
She was sitting on her bed now, shocked, but in more comfortable state. Her bed was especially comfortable. It was a grand queen sized bed and the mattress engulfed her when she lay down on it. She had a vodka bottle in her hand and was taking chugs. She took a big gulp from the bottle. 'What just came over me?' She still thought while shocked. She took another gulp. When she blinked she saw something. She closed her eyes again and a vision occurred in her mind.  
She saw blood spraying.  
She gasped and opened her eyes. She took another gulp. 'What was that!?' she thought, even more shocked now. She started to chug the bottle and dropped it at her side. She heard the sound of the bottle, empty, falling against the floor. She fell back into her bed and closed her eyes again.  
Blood sprayed around her.  
She opened her eyes but had trouble keeping them open due to the alcohol. The memory seemed vaguely familiar. She knew one thing certainly at this point. 'I don't, I don't want to see this. Am I going to hell?'


	2. 1930's Chicago

Thirty years back, in the Nineteen-thirties, Chicago was a far different place. It was still a place where businesses thrived but there was something significantly different occurring during that time. First of all it was the great depression. Overwhelming, traditional, archaic buildings loomed over the people and clouds of smog hung above the city. It was a city of factories to and this just contributed to the gloomy atmosphere. It did so in terms of the workers being employed at cheap rates and the abundance of poverty that existed in turn. Crime found ways to flourish too. The cops had started to come down on crime but due to the depression things weren't progressing as efficiently as they could be. Gangs found ways to operate on a more underground level. Some clubs in the city were gang operated and this allowed for more privacy and discretion while dealing with illegal activity. It was a city of brown and grey, bleak attitudes and atmosphere, yet it had a class to it of sorts. Despite the depressing atmosphere, chicago still found ways to flourish.  
He was an instance of success, even despite these harsh times. 'The way I see it,' he would often think 'times like these make people desperate, desperate times call for desperate measures and that's my job'. His name was Max and he was a hit man.

It was nighttime, the street lamps were light up. There were factories on the street and some homeless people slept further down the road. Black and grey surrounded him with patches where the light from the lamps would shine. Under one lamp, there was a dog. It was snarling and biting at him. It was a stray. It had wandered into the city looking for scraps, it found none. The homeless people had already successfully scavenged most of the area for food. People had started making sure to properly dispose of their waste so as to keep the homeless away.  
He stood in front of the dog, stepping back as it lunged forward. It was a shaggy medium sized black dog. It snarled and growled as it lunged at him. He had bright blonde hair that was curly and slicked back, he wore a suit and bore a menacing look on his face. His facial features were prominent and sharp. He exhaled and smiled while stepping back. "Aw. Well, hey there 'lil feller. You seem hungry. Unable to find yourself scraps of food?" The dog then stopped. He swung his leg back. He then brought his leg forward as hard as he could and launched his foot in the dogs jaw. The dogs jaw broke and it started yelping. Max burst out laughing and his face distorted into a cold, evil grin. "You little fuck!" he exclaimed. He then laughed while watching the dog yelp with it's jaw entirely out of place. Blood was pouring from the dogs mouth and Max crouched beside it. He grabbed the dogs head and the dog started frantically whimpering. He then crushed the dogs head in his hands. Brains, blood and bone were everywhere and streamed all down his arm. He laughed, shook some of the bits of brain and some drops of blood off his arm and continued onwards. In a nearby alley, a man lay with an indistinguishable face. Max had stomped it in too. It was a face reduced to pulp.  
Max sat in a motel room. He was reading a book on surgery and the human anatomical structure. Max had unprofessionally studied and professed in being a doctor. He was adverse to any kind of "dependency on others" and viewed medical treatment as a form of dependency, in turn, he saw to it that he could treat himself. Max saw killing as a mere assertion of his independence as killing eliminated the others who made up a society he was inherently dependent on.  
Pain surged from his crotch and spread across his whole body, gradually subsiding. It was a sharp pain, like his whole crotch area was filled with shards of glass, tearing him apart from the inside. Max was looking into preforming a procedure on himself. Max wanted to get rid of the huge kidney stones that were in him.  
He walked to the bathroom of the motel It was dingy and there was mold spreading in one corner. Max opened the lid, undid his belt, untucked his shirt, and blood sprayed out into the toilet. Max winced and pushed as hard as he could. The stones were clogging his urethra or urinary passage. "Fuck!" he exclaimed. The toilet seat was covered in the blood that sprayed out of him. There had been some piss in the blood too, so, he washed up, finished, and painfully walked back over to read in the chair.  
His phone rang. It was just what he was waiting for. He he was to be assigned his next hit. 'Time to get a cadaver.. No, Wait, more like a living subject.' He smiled as he thought this.

"Come on 'sis!" Allen James yelled back to his younger sister, Caroline. The kids were running through the country side, in the forest near their families farm. Greenery surrounded them as they ran past bushes and trees. They could feel the sticks on the ground crack underneath their feet. They felt at peace. Allen smiled warmly as he watched his sister catch up. She wore a dress, and sun hat. Caroline had light blonde hair and hazel eyes. She had a wide grin on her face as she caught up to her brother.  
Allen's hair was a light brown colour and it was straight and shaggy. He was wearing suspenders and a button up shirt. He had smooth facial feathers and his eyes looked keen and calm. They were blue. He picked up a stick at his side. "Sis, let us slay the demons of these woods. We shall fight in the name of the lord." Allen's sister excitedly picked up a stick and held it in the air, letting out an cry of excitement. She loved it when her brother made up fantasy stories. He would always take her on the most exciting adventures. It could keep her entertained for hours. Allen would gladly comply being imaginative and to make Caroline happy.  
Allen's eyes opened as he awoke from his pleasant dream and he stared at the ceiling. "Oh Caroline" he said smiling. His smile then quivered and his face quickly looked sad. It was a face of sadness that looked natural but out of place for a character of Allen's sort. Allen got out of bed in his tiny, crammed apartment. He buttoned up a shirt, put on his coat and fedora. Allen was much older now.  
His hair was slicked to the side, still straight and light brown. He had a calm face with smooth features. And He was of a medium height.  
He walked towards his small bathroom and turned on the tap. The water that came out was green. Allen gave a look of disgust. He then turned away and walked out of his house, smiling, as prepared as he could be for the day at hand.  
Allen walked down the street. He smiled and waved occasionally at people, making sure to say "hello" and be friendly. He greeted all the people passing by with a warm smile. Some would walk on, finding his look to be absurd. Others smiled back.  
Allen worked at a fruit stand. Often times people would steal fruit from him and walk on by. That was his main issue with his job, but, being as he was, he wouldn't retaliate but instead would smile and let them walk on. Allen wasn't aggressive, nor was he confrontational. Allen liked to socialize and he was particularly caring. Often times Allen was haunted by memories of his sister. Whom he loved and cared for dearly. Allen's sister passed away in their childhood. The memory was still clear.  
It was a day like any other. Allen and his sister were playing by a stream. They were jumping off of rocks while playing a game. Allen had jumped further than his sister down the trail of rocks that were on the side of the stream. He had turned away for just a second and when he looked to see where his sister was, she was lying facedown in the stream. There was blood streaming with the water. Allen cried out and sprinted towards his sister. He slipped on one of the rocks as he ran and gashed his leg open. Blood poured down it. He continued running, though at this point it was more like limping, towards his sister. He crouched beside her and turned her over while tears streamed down his face. "Sis!?" he yelled. He continued yelling her name while crying until his parents came and found him. At that point he had suffered quite a lot of blood loss too.  
As he lay in the hospital bed, he wondered how his sister could just be gone like that. 'I can't imagine a life without her' he thought to himself.

A woman approached the stand. She was young and nicely dressed. Her hair was blonde and hung long. She wore a sun dress and had a sweet innocent face. Allen felt his heart beat increase. "Why, Hello there, Madam." Allen said as politely as possible. "How may I help you?"  
"Could I have an apple?" She asked.  
She sounded innocent and sweet. Like something pure and untainted. Allen felt her voice bring life to his heart and send shivers up his spine. 'Your as sweet as an apple,' Allen thought, 'I can tell.'  
"Of course!" Allen said happily and gave her a warm grin. It made her feel comfortable and she could immediately see he was of a genuine nature.  
"You know, I get a lot of people who just run off with my fruit. I can tell you won't though." Allen said this with a laugh.  
"Doesn't that anger you?"  
"Well, my boss doesn't like it. I've gotten whacked up a few times, but, the way I see it, these people are hungry and as long as I do well for the most part, theres no problem."  
She stared at Allen, charmed. Allen stared back. 'I want you to be mine. In my arms and safe at my side always.' he thought. 'Innocent creatures like yourself should be safe at all times.'  
And so, Karen Rosso met Allen James.  
Allen's fruit stand was in an upper-middle-class part of town. This enabled Karen to visit him as the area wasn't too uncouth and unsafe for her. That's why she was there in the first place. This area and in the more upper class areas of town served as their meeting place.

Karen's dad found out about this quite soon after it had occurred. He was a big man. He was stern and had stern facial features. He was often seen in nice suits and kept his short hair gelled back.  
His name was Anthony Rosso. He heard about his daughter over the phone, while talking to one of his cronies. "What!" he exclaimed into the phone. "No poor ass, filthy country boy is going to have my daughter! I'll kill the fucker. I knew she was up to something!" 'A man marrying himself into wealth, how sickening.' he thought.


	3. Chaos Breaks Loose

Allen was walking home from a hotel he had spent his savings on and taken Karen to. 'I'm going to marry her' he thought. 'Somehow I will, I need to always look over her. How could her father let her wander about like she was when I first met her. Or even like she does now. Despite the fact she's with me, a good father should protect his daughter from a potentially dangerous environment.' Allen walked past grey and brown buildings, one after the other. The sun had set at this point and night loomed over him. Alex tripped on his shoelace and quickly bent over to fix it. He head footsteps stop behind him as he did this.  
He turned around. He saw no one in the darkness that the street faded into. The streetlights were too faint to make out the surrounding area.  
Allen went back to walking.  
He could definitely hear footsteps behind his now.  
He turned around.  
In the distance, under a lamp, stood someone. It was too dark to make him out. Allen gave a friendly wave. The man stood motionless.  
Allen turned around and quickened his pace as he walked now. The footsteps behind him became more rapid. Pitter patter, pitter patter. It was like a thunderstorm moving in on him.  
When Allen turned around he felt his nose get smashed in by the fist of his assailant.  
Allen fell onto the sidewalk, with blood pouring out of his nose.  
"Please! Don't do this! I did nothing!" Allen yelled in fear.  
"Shut the fuck up, 'ya whiny little bitch" Max said.  
Max cackled and, with the cloth full of chloroform in his one hand, grabbed Allen's face.

Allen's eyes shot open. For a split second he hoped it might have been a dream but the sharp pain in his face grounded him back into reality. He was chained to some bed in, what looked like some underground, dingy basement. His mouth was gagged. 'Oh god' he thought. Amidst his anxious state, he was then filled with an empty, hopeless feeling. He let out muffled screams and frantically his eyes darted about. His nose hurt so much. He looked to his side and saw a man, with prominent, sharp facial features, a big nose that sharply jutted out of his face and blonde curly hair slicked back. The man was smiling.  
"You look so peaceful in your sleep. I'm going to love to change that expression of yours from pleasure to pain."  
Allen winced from the pain in his nose.  
"You think that's bad? Things are about to get so much worse for you. Guess what?"  
Max looked at allen with a sinister grin and a curious face. Max looked as if he expected a response out of Allen. Max then laughed.  
"Ya see, I like being prepared for things. I also like doing things for myself. I don't go to hospitals because of this unwillingness towards dependency. Ya may think I'm stupid, I think you're a pussy. Anyways, I have kidney stones. I intend on taking them out of myself, of course, while doped up, which won't be your case. I first need to understand what I'm doing, so, I'm going to slice you open and make comparisons with my book here. Put the theory into practise."  
Allen's heart sunk. Allen's screaming was muffled by the gag.  
"Oh, goody good, this experiment should be fun." Max then took out a scalpel from the inside pocket of his suit.

Karen was sitting in the club that her dad's friend, Terry ran. She was on a date with a fellow her dad set her up with. He was a rich lawyer. He was skinny, good looking, had short hair which was gelled back and wore a nice suit. It was an upper class establishment but it was full of her dad's more elite mob friends. Her Dad was also there. He was doing lines of coke in the V.I.P lounge. It was a formal club. All the people there wore suits. The people there all looked prestigious and prominent. Karen hadn't heard from Allen for a few weeks. Karen's dad told her about how men were like this. "Karen," he would always say "most men are indecent and undignified. We live in times where sleazy ideals are about. Don't go fooling around and trust in your dad." Karen thought Allen would be an exception. She thought maybe she could rely on her own feelings. But she was thinking maybe she was wrong. 'I should be reasonable and trust in my dad,' Karen thought. 'I can't trust my feelings and my reasoning was clearly misguided by my emotions.' She felt empty and full of pain when Allen came to mind. She had spent the first week that he didn't show up to meet her crying. He also hadn't shown up for work either. This initially concerned her but one of Karen's dad's acquaintances told her that he saw Allen getting on a bus out of the city. "He probably didn't have it in him to follow through on robbing you" Karen's dad told her. Karen really loved Allen and felt as though no one else could ever be like him. She felt he was the only one she could be attracted to.  
The door of the club opened and a man walked in.  
At first, most people didn't pay much attention but gradually more and more people started to notice the newcomer and alert others of his presence.  
He wore a long, old trench coat and had a fedora which covered his face. He walked up to the bar and pulled up a seat. All eyes in the club were on him.  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing her buddy?" The bartender asked. The people sitting at tables nearby, Karen included, stared. Karen thought something about the man was familiar.  
He was pale. His arms hung at his sides. And someone called out "Hey, there's blood dripping down from that guys arm!" It was true too, streams of blood were dripping down both of the arms of the man. His arms were hanging weakly by his side and his blood was forming a pool underneath him. The people sitting in the club started murmuring.  
"Are you ok buddy?" The bartender asked.  
"Why?" the man asked.  
"Why what?"  
The crowd of people was silent.  
"Why is she with him?"  
The man pointed behind himself without looking around. He was pointing at Karen.  
"Allen?!" she cried. "What happened to you?"  
Allen's voice sounded like it was sobbing now.  
"I said I'd keep her safe, and here she is. With a bunch of mobsters, in a society where the indecent thrive."  
The bartender clearly knew the man Karen was with.  
"Hey now! Don't go insulting Tim. He's better than you, ya bum."

"Now, now," Max said while standing over Allen, who was chained to the bed.  
"It's time we begin the procedure."  
Max took the knife and lined it up with the top of Allen's chest.  
Max dug the knife into Allen and ruthlessly tore down to Allen's stomach. Allen let out a muffled scream and his whole body tensed up. He had never felt so much agony and pain in his life before. He felt the blade dig into his skin and he felt it slide down. Tearing him open. Allen's body was in so much pain, he was straining his muscles and exerting tons of pressure onto them.  
When he did this, something happened. He felt the blood pouring down his sides as if it were a part of him. All he had to do was tense his muscles. It felt like he could control it when he did this.  
The blood pouring out of Allen's chest hardened into a smooth, shiny red surface. The scalpel broke.  
"What the fuck?" Max said  
A long smooth, red spike shot out of Allen's chest as he intended it too. Even though this ability tore him to shreds, he had to get out of the situate. The spike shot out and broke the handcuffs that held him. Four long, spider-like legs made out of hardened blood shot out of Allen's back. He was hanging in the air, supported by the legs. Max screamed and Allen undid the gag.  
Max took out a .38 special handgun out of it's holster in his coat. He fired a few shots at Allen. The bullets went in Allen's face and tore through his stomach. The bullet that shot his face went into his forehead and created a huge hole. The bullet popped out of the hole, pushed out by solid blood, which then filled the hole. The impact of the bullet hitting Allen's face caused his eyeball to pop out of its socket. A long sharp tendril shot out of Allen's body and went into Max's stomach. More sharp red tendrils shot out of Allen's body, mutilating it, but grasping onto Max.  
Max was torn to shreds.

He was like a porcupine or a blowfish in the nature of his self defence but far more deadly and vile. Also, Allen was the predator. Sharpness just burst out of him in the form of tendrils and spikes. He could control his blood to such an extent at this point, that all of his spikes that came out of him hit their intended target. Allen wanted revenge. One man was torn in half by two tendrils that grabbed either side of him. His guts poured out of him onto the floor and people nearby threw up. Everyone was screaming. Allen's body was being torn to shreds by all the spikes of solid blood that were shooting out of him. The club was put in a state of utter chaos. A woman had a spike go through her like a spit. Her blood poured down the spike that impaled her. Karen lay on the floor, screaming and crying. She couldn't believe what was happening and in the back of her mind she felt partially responsible for Allen's outburst. She really did love him but she didn't know what to do. A handgun lay at her side. It had fallen out of a man who had been lift by his head violently by a tendril, he was lifted until his head was torn off. While he was suspended in the air a gun fell out of his coat. Karen looked at it and didn't know what to do. She was crouched behind a table and looked over it. Allen looked like a mutilated mess at this point. He was more made up of jutting spikes than he was human. His flesh, muscles and even some organs were strewn about on the spikes. The spikes and tendrils retracted and Allen suspended his corpse in the air using the support of the blood-spider legs he could conjure. A long tendril then shot out of him and went into another room. Karen's dad, struggling, was lifted into the room.  
"While I tore up Max," Allen said in a low demonic voice, "he told me you were behind this".  
Karen's dad screamed. "Please don't do this!"  
"Funny, that's what I said to Max. I will clear this world of the indecency that has the potential to take innocence away. Innocence should never be corrupted!"  
Karen's dad was struggling, still yelling. With tears streaming down her face, Karen took aim at Allen's head. She fired. The bullet tore into his head and sunk in. 'I'm so sorry Allen' she thought. She then started sobbing and said it aloud. "I'm so sorry Allen!" Allen's head turned to her. One of his eyes was hanging out of it's sockets. From the eye that was intact, a tear rolled down Allen's face. Blood sprayed out of his head and he gradually grew paler and paler. Karen's dad fell from Allen's tendril as it and his blood-spider legs retracted. As the blood sprayed out more, the solidified blood retracted more, turning into liquified blood spraying out of Allen's head. Allen's body fell limply to the floor.

Such was the trauma that had been blocked off from Karen's memory.


End file.
